


We Found Love (Right Where We Are)

by sassy_cissa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Fluff and Angst, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnant Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 15:44:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14957465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassy_cissa/pseuds/sassy_cissa
Summary: Whatever this was between him and Harry - it was working. The sex was brilliant and who needed commitment anyway? Not Draco Malfoy, of that he was sure. Mostly.





	We Found Love (Right Where We Are)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bixgirl1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bixgirl1/gifts).



> NOTE: THIS IS A REPOST OF THIS FIC BECAUSE I'M AN IDIOT AND ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT TRYING TO DELETE A SECOND COPY OF THIS FIC. *headdesk* sassy_cissa
> 
> More than a zillion thanks to my betas, especially to B who jumped in at the last minute so this could finally post. So much love to bixgirl for the delightful prompt. This didn't quite go as I'd intended – I'd hoped for a bit more drawn out courtship but as John Lennon said _"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."_.
> 
> The title is from the song _Thinking Out Loud_ by Ed Sheeran.
> 
> Dear bixgirl I hope you enjoy this little thing. It was written for you with love.

See note above - this is a repost of this fic, as I accidentally deleted it sassy_cissa.

We Found Love (Right Where We Are)

"Oh fuck." Draco shifted once again in an attempt to remove whatever was threatening to gouge his shoulder. Unfortunately, and much to Harry's annoyance, that movement caused Harry's hand to slip off Draco's dick.

Not that Draco seemed to care that it was his fault, mind.

"I swear to Merlin, Potter," Draco hissed into Harry's ear, "if you do not get me off in the next minute I'm going to hex that lovely cock of yours up your own arse."

Harry huffed out a startled laugh as his fingers found Draco's prick again and, with a quick roll of his hips, his own cock drove deeper into Draco's arse. "Kinky." He bit the sharp angle of Draco's jaw. "But you know it's not like there's a lot of room for manoeuvring in here."

"It's never stopped you from performing before, Potter." Draco arched his head back, gasping. "Don't tell me you're losing your touch?"

Bastard, Harry muttered, sounding amused and he reached down with his free hand, digging his fingers into the curve of Draco's arse. With a helpful twist of Draco's hips, Harry lifted Draco up even higher so his legs wrapped further around Harry's hips. 

"Circe, come _on_ ," Draco said, as he dug his fingers into Harry's shoulders. "I know you can do better."

HPDMHPDM

For a moment, Harry thought about just leaving Draco like this, cock hard and desperate, but he hadn't a death wish. He'd learnt early on not to toy with a Malfoy's orgasm – at least not without express permission. So, Harry began to thrust faster, and Draco's head fell back so that Harry could see the long line of his throat accentuated by tendon's that strained in pleasure. Draco's prick slid between their slick bodies, as his arse clenched tight around Harry's dick. And Merlin, that was all it took. Harry came so hard his back bowed and his fingers dug into Draco's arse cheeks, as if holding on for dear life. Harry shuddered through his orgasm, his breath sawing in and out of his chest.

He barely noticed when Draco came against him, his hands clutched around Harry's shoulders. They collapsed together, coming down from the high, their bodies buzzing with pleasure, their stomachs coated in spunk. 

Harry looked up as Draco winced. It was only then he realized he'd pressed Draco's back up against a metal shelf. He shifted forward before lowering Draco's legs to the floor. "Are you all right?"

"I'll let you know." Wrinkling his nose, Draco cast a quick Cleaning Charm on himself before searching the floor. Harry assumed he was looking for his trousers, which Harry'd flung, along with his pants, to the side of his desk when they'd started. He picked them up and handed them to Draco. 

"Better get dressed," Harry said, and the glare Draco gave him was exasperated as he buttoned his shirt.

"Merlin." Draco twisted his shoulders, stretching them out and giving Harry a brilliant view of his bare arse, as he turned from one side to the other. "Next time can you find a spot without shelving that leaves permanent dents in my person?"

"Next time don't look so fucking hot when you stop by my office to drop off your forensics report." Harry watched as Draco pulled on his pants, then his trousers, tucking his rumpled shirttails in. 

Draco buckled his belt with a roll of his eyes. "Yes sir, Mr Head Auror Sir. I'll be certain to dress like I have no fashion sense what-so-ever." He turned toward the door. "It seems to work for you."

Harry snapped his fingers and Draco squeaked and whirled around. "Did you just pinch my arse?"

"Mind your manners, Malfoy," Harry said with just a touch of a laugh. "Now get out of here before my two-ten arrives and I have to explain to Hermione why you're in my office…again."

Draco flipped two fingers towards Harry before peeking down the corridor. It must have been clear because he slid out, the door closing behind him. Harry sighed and turned back to his desk. The last thing he needed was a run in with Hermione. Not that she and Draco didn't get along, at least when they had to work together as part of the DMLE. But Harry was quite positive that Hermione wouldn't appreciate knowing that he and Draco had been…what exactly had they been doing for the last year? Shagging obviously, but what were they? Certainly friends…with benefits? Hell if Harry knew.

With a faint sigh, he sat back down, reaching for a stack of parchments. He'd meant it about having a two-ten meeting. He just hadn't told Draco it was with the Minister himself. 

Harry had some reading to do.

HPDMHPDM

As always after one of his encounters with Harry, Draco pondered their _relationship_ or whatever the hell it was all the way back down the labyrinth of DMLE corridors to his lab. Once there, he sat gingerly on the stool at his work table, idly weaving a quill through his fingers.

He wondered, not for the first time, if he'd been right to insist on keeping this thing between them _light_ , keeping it quiet. It wasn't as if they were dating, after all. Harry was a good shag. Nothing more than that, and Draco'd been clear from the beginning that an occasional fuck or two was all he'd wanted. Harry hadn't objected to that either. What they had was easy. Good. What else would Draco want from Harry, after all? It's not as if the Head Auror could be out and about on the arm of a former Death Eater, reformed or not.

Draco sighed and stood up, dropping his quill down onto the work table. Enough wool-gathering. Whatever it was, it was working. The sex was brilliant and who needed commitment anyway? Not Draco Malfoy, of that he was sure. 

Mostly.

HPDMHPDM

Draco woke with a start. He'd been in the middle of a dream where he was receiving a rather spectacular blow job. Now his dick was so hard it hurt. He pushed his boxers down his thighs, kicking them off beneath the coverlet, and shifted so he was on his back, knees bent. Christ, he'd not been this randy when he was seventeen, let alone at twenty-five. He spit in his hand and began palming his erection, twisting his fingers down his rock-hard shaft. Three rough strokes later he arched up, his hips bucking up into his fist as he pulsed out his release. He fell back against his pillows, arm over his eyes, panting as his body shook with the strength of his orgasm.

"Merlin's balls, where had that come from?" he wondered. He'd just finished casting a quick Cleansing spell when his stomach rolled. And not in a _it's morning, I want breakfast way_. Draco pushed himself up and just made it to the loo before what felt like his entire stomach presented itself as he retched. He rested his head against the cool porcelain of the bowl and just as suddenly as it had started, his stomach calmed. He dragged the back of his hand across his mouth, unsettled.

He must have eaten something off. Draco frowned, trying to remember. He'd ordered takeaway from a new place down the street a day ago, but it'd tasted brilliant, and the leftovers he'd had last night had seemed fine. And Draco could usually tell when food was spoilt. He's learnt that much from the Manor house elves. 

Still, something must have gone wrong. Draco stood, stripped off his tee shirt and stepped into the shower. Standing under the hot spray, he breathed out, lifting his face to the warmth of the water. Whatever caused the nausea had passed; he felt practically himself again. 

By evening Draco put the whole thing off to bad curry and Potter being out of the country on assignment for the past week. Nothing more than that, he thought. Bad food and boredom. It would do that to a man.

Still he binned the remainder of the curry. Better safe than sorry, after all.

HPDMHPDM

"Merlin, Potter," Draco complained, "you don't need to twist my nipples off, you idiot."

At his sharp tone, Harry stopped, looking at Draco in surprise. "You've always liked it when I play with your nipples. What the fuck, Malfoy?"

Draco shrugged. He felt rather out of sorts, if he was honest. "They're a bit sensitive. Feel free to carry on, just leave the nipples for now." He wrapped his arms around Harry's neck, trying to give him a flirtatious smile. "My dick, on the other hand, is quite willing to be stroked and twisted if you're planning on having sex sometime today."

Draco wasn't exactly sure when his nipples had become so tender. In the past he'd loved Harry playing with them and hadn't cared how roughly Harry twisted or nipped. But for the past few days, just having his shirt rub against them was enough to send him screaming. Except now he was so bloody randy he needed Potter to finish him off. And soon. Christ, what the hell was going on? 

Then Potter pressed him onto the bed and all thoughts flew from his brain and life centred around his arse and that delightful tongue of Harry's. Whatever, Draco thought as Harry's prick dragged up along Draco's thigh. He'd worry about it later. He twisted his fingers in the sheets, his body shuddering with excitement. 

For now he just wanted to be shagged within an inch of his life.

HPDMHPDM

"I'm sorry," Draco said calmly to the Healer sitting in front of him, "I must have Wrackspurts or something. Could you repeat that?"

Healer Sirona smiled. "I said, Mr Malfoy, congratulations. You're expecting."

Draco's face went blank. "Expecting what?" His brain couldn't comprehend what she was obviously trying to tell him. 

"Oh my, this news _has_ taken you quite by surprise, hasn't it?" Healer Sirona grinned widely. "Although it can't be totally unanticipated…" She trailed off, studying Draco's face. "I see it truly is. Well, that's a Kneazle of a different colour."

"No," Draco said firmly, his jaw set and mouth drawn into a tight line. "Your tests are obviously faulty. I demand you perform them again." He crossed his arms over his chest, a horrible feeling starting to creep over him. "In fact, I demand the department head perform them this time. You are apparently not qualified."

"I…I…" Healer Sirona spluttered. She pulled herself up in her chair, all five-foot-four of her. "I assure you, there is nothing wrong with my tests. You are approximately nine weeks pregnant." Her smile fell away, and she looked at him almost with concern, Draco thought. "I suggest that you contact the other father if there's a possibility you wish to terminate. Under wizarding law in these matters, he has rights as well. You're dangerously close to the point where you'll have no options."

Draco stared at her. "Pregnant? Circe, you're serious." He rubbed his hands over his face. This had to be a prank. Some sort of mad joke where Pansy or Blaise would come flying out of the closed door, laughing at him. Except they didn’t know he’d been fucking Harry Potter. Reality started to sink in. He was pregnant. With a baby. Harry Potter’s baby. "Merlin's fucking balls."

They sat in silence for a few minutes before the Healer spoke again. "Mr Malfoy, I can tell this has come as a total surprise to you." Her voice became soft and lost much of its earlier sting. "But you've been given a great gift. How you choose to accept it is ultimately up to you. However, I do strongly recommend that you speak to the other father. People can surprise you and this just might be very good news to him."

Running his hands over his abdomen, Draco looked up at his Healer. "I hope you're right." Draco wasn't so certain about that. He'd no idea what Harry would think about this. "But whatever he decides, I'm in this for the long haul." He took a deep breath. "I apologise for my previous outburst. What happens next?"

Healer Sirona stood and moved to a file cabinet near her desk and pulled out a folder. As she sat again, she slid the folder across the desk to Draco. "There are several pamphlets inside that detail the changes you'll be going through in the next several months. You'll be experiencing a bit of discomfort in the next few weeks as the potions I'll be giving you will prepare your body to carry your child."

Draco winced. "Sorry, I'm still a bit beside myself about all this."

"It's quite understandable." Healer Sirona touched the back of Draco's hand gently. "Especially as it appears you weren't trying for a child."

"That's a bit of an understatement," Draco said with a sigh. "But it would seem that I am currently as they say, up the duff. Now I need to do what's best for the _sprout_." He shook his head, his hands settling back to the faint swell of his stomach. "A baby…"

Draco spent that next half hour learning about the potions he needed to begin taking and scheduling for regular check-ups with the Healer. He gathered his parcel of potions and papers, shook Healer Sirona's hand and left her office. 

He made it to the nearest gent's and rushed inside. Closing the door he carefully set his package on the small table in the room and looked in the mirror. He was fairly certain he looked just as he had before the Healer's news and turned his world upside down. With his hands over his belly, he rocked back and forth. "Well, Malfoy, this time for sure you are well and truly fucked."

His reflection didn't answer. 

With a worried sigh, Draco picked his package up. Forget work, he decided. He needed to take the rest of the day off and think.

Once home, the news seemed to drain his energy and completely knackered, he fell onto his bed and slept. It was almost dusk when he woke; he knew that Harry would just be finishing up for the day. 

_Well, you idiot,_ Draco thought to himself wryly. _No time like the present_ He reached for a quill and parchment.

HPDMHPDM

Harry's day had been filled with Ministry stupidity. How any one department could have so many meetings that went over the same things was beyond him. He'd decided, about two hours into the monthly departmental meeting to discuss the abuse of the parchment limitations, that the Undersecretary to the Minister must have been raised by someone related to Snape. There was no other explanation for his absolutely regimented, precise lifestyle. Harry'd nearly laughed aloud at the thought that the man probably scheduled loo breaks into his day.

When Draco's owl arrived Harry was surprised, yet pleased. Generally their correspondence was limited to a late night note or a drunken Floo call requesting his presence. This note seemed…well…too polite. He looked at it again, unfolding it and smoothing out the creases in the obviously expensive parchment. 

_Potter,  
I would appreciate your stopping by after you leave the Ministry today. I'll make dinner. I'm preparing a proper roast chicken. I hope you have no objections._

_Malfoy_

Harry tried to read between the lines as to what Draco was saying. Maybe Draco was getting tired of their arrangement. Harry'd been toying with the idea of talking to Draco about maybe actually dating. Now he wondered if he'd waited too long and Draco'd found someone he actually wanted to be seen with in public. The thought made Harry's stomach tense, and not in a good _I'm off to get blown_ way. 

Well, Harry mused as he walked to the Atrium – no way to find out but to go see what Draco wanted. Taking the visitor's entrance to the street, Harry walked to the nearest off license to pick up a bottle of wine. If he was about to get dumped, he wanted to be half in the bag when Malfoy delivered the news.

Harry walked a short distance from the off license to a small park. Stepping behind a large bush, he checked the area before Apparating to an alleyway not far from Draco's flat. As he walked down the street, he considered charming the bottle of wine open and starting to drink it right away. Only the thought that he'd look like a drunk drinking from a bottle in a paper bag stopped him. By the time he arrived at Draco's door, he'd nearly worked himself into a full blown strop. He pounded on the door, not much caring if he disturbed the neighbours. 

He waited a minute. No answer. He pounded again, this time calling out. "Open the fucking door, Malfoy. I'm here, as demanded."

When Draco still didn't answer the door, Harry's anger shifted to concern. After only a moment's hesitation he waved his hand and whispered, "Alohomora." To his unease, the door swung open. Draco's wards were down, and that couldn't be a good sign. Harry pulled his wand from his holster and held it aloft as he slowly entered Malfoy's flat, closing the door quietly behind him. A few steps into the small living room Harry caught sight of the kitchen, a sauce pan over a low flame on the hob, but there was no sign of Malfoy. Harry stopped and listened, his head cocked to one side. He heard a faint noise from the direction of the loo. Harry set the bag with the wine on a side table in the living room, then moved quickly down the hall, stopping at the first door, where he found Draco kneeling in front of the toilet.

"Christ, Malfoy, what the hell?" Harry rushed in. "Are you okay?"

Draco sat back on his heels, swiping a hand over his mouth. "Do I _look_ okay, Potter? Merlin's balls." He rose on somewhat unsteady feet. "Put your damn wand away and either bring me some water or get the fuck into the kitchen and check on the chicken. The veg has most certainly burnt to the pan by now." He paused, swallowing, and Harry thought he looked a bit green around the edges. "It would be wonderful if the entire meal didn't need to be binned."

Harry stared at Draco for a moment. To be honest, he'd never seen the man look so pale. Draco was fair-skinned to be sure, but right now his face was nearly translucent. As his brain caught up with Draco's words, Harry Summoned a glass from the kitchen and turned on the tap at the sink, filling it with water. As Draco took the glass with a shaky hand, Harry sheathed his wand and watched him drink greedily. 

When Draco finished the water he placed a hand on his stomach, as if to settle it. 

"Why'd you send for me if you're not feeling well?" Harry asked. "It's obvious you're not looking for a… our…erm…usual…"

"Not looking for a shag? Is that the word you're stumbling over like an ickle firstie?" Draco's nostrils flared. Harry couldn't blame him; he supposed he deserved to be mocked a bit.

Still, Harry's voice was quiet when he finally spoke. "What's wrong with you, Draco?"

Draco started at Harry's use of his first name, but he recovered quickly. Or tried to, at least. Harry'd been an Auror for far too long not to notice the way his cheeks flushed. "We need to talk," Draco said firmly. "Although I'd rather not have this conversation in the loo, thanks ever so."

With that, Draco brushed past Harry and walked slowly to the kitchen. Harry followed, grabbing the bottle of wine from the living room as he passed through. The smell of scorched broccoli filled the flat, and Harry caught the way Draco swallowed as they entered the kitchen, obviously still unwell. Draco snatched his wand from the counter and waved it towards the pan. Immediately the pan and its contents vanished and the flame died out. The smell of lemon floated up into the air. 

"Guess it didn't make it, eh?" Harry grinned. He cleared his throat and spoke dramatically. "Today, ladies and gentlemen, a veg gave it's all for the good of wizard kind."

Draco stared at him, his mouth pressed in a thin line. 

Harry grimaced. "Not funny, then." With a shrug, he lifted the bottle in his hand. "Don't know about you, but I'm fairly certain I'm going to need a drink for whatever it is I'm here for." Harry set the bottle on the counter and took his wand from its sheath and tapped the top. The cork popped neatly out and landed on the counter. 

Harry turned to the cupboard next to where they stood and took out two wine glasses with a familiarity borne from quite a few nights spent here in Draco's flat. When Draco inhaled sharply, Harry looked back at him. "What?" 

"I didn't realize you were so well acquainted with my flat," Draco said, and Harry set the glasses on the counter with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, I have been here rather a lot in recent months." He reached for the bottle of wine. "How much do you want?" 

"None for me, thank you." There was a hitch in Draco's voice that made Harry look up at him again, stopping in mid-pour. 

Harry set the bottle down. "Stomach still a bit off?"

Draco nodded. "You could say that." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I was going to do this after we ate, but maybe I should just do it now."

It was Harry's turn to nod as he took a large sip of wine. "Okay," was all Harry could manage. He tried to steel himself for this. For Draco tossing him over. He'd be fine with it. Eventually.

Draco led the way back into the living room and sat down on one of the soft chairs. The very same chair he'd sat in a few weeks ago when Harry had given him a blow job, as Harry recalled. Those were better days. He looked down into the depths of his wine glass, watching the dark red liquid slosh up the sides. Better to get it over with, he thought. As much as it might hurt. 

Harry spoke before Draco could. "I know what this is about," he said quietly. 

Draco frowned. "How could you know when I only found out I was pregnant this morning?" 

Harry spoke at the same time. "You want to end whatever this is we're doing." 

"End this?" Draco said, looking at Harry as if he'd lost his mind. 

At the same time, Harry squeaked, "Excuse me?" He stared at Draco. "What the hell did you just say?"

Draco rubbed the back of his neck. He didn't look at Harry. "I've been stressing for hours on how to tell you and then I blurt it out like a drunk unable to keep his mouth shut."

Harry didn't move. His face went slack for a moment, and his mind whirled.

"Oh, Merlin," Draco said. "Don’t tell me I managed to do what the Dark Lord never could and I killed you with the shock." He gave Harry a sideways glance, but his face was pinched. Worried.

Harry blinked several times and then spoke. "Did you just say you're pregnant? Like with a baby?" He was trying to take this in, but it wasn’t making much sense. Draco? Pregnant? How the fuck had that happened? Well, he knew how it _happened_ , but usually that sort of thing had to be planned out for blokes. You couldn’t just up and get bloody pregnant!

Draco rolled his eyes, but he was still sitting stiffly in the chair, almost as if he were afraid of Harry. "Yes with a baby, you berk. What did you think I'd be pregnant with? A Kneazle?"

Harry's face scrunched, and he scratched the back of his head. "Seriously? But I thought you had to take potions and stuff for a bloke to get pregnant." He glanced over at Draco. "We never took potions."

"No, we didn't." Draco gave him an even look. "Apparently once again, Potter, you've defied all the usual wizarding rules and have managed to impregnate me without following the usual protocol."

"You're pregnant," Harry blurted out. "And it's mine?" The words sounded so strange to Harry. And yet, there was a part of him that was bubbling with something terribly close to joy. He’d got Draco pregnant. With no potions. Just magic. If he was honest, Harry couldn’t help but feel a bit chuffed about that.

"Technically," Draco said, his voice a bit sharp, "it's _mine_ , Potter, as I'm the one who's going to gain an asinine amount of weight, grow so large I'll need help finding my dick to piss and we won't even talk about swollen ankles. So yes, I'm up the duff from your ridiculously potent soldiers."

"A baby." Harry studied Draco thoughtfully. "So now what?"

"Meaning?" Draco asked. He looked a bit uncertain, and his hand went down to settle on his stomach. A faint thrill went through Harry. That was his baby Draco was touching. _Their_ baby.

"Well you're pregnant. This changes everything," Harry said. "Obviously." 

"This changes nothing," Draco shot back. His back stiffened even more than it had been. "I'm pregnant, yes, and you're the other father, but nothing has to change. We can still _see_ each other as required to fulfil basic needs, but other than that…"

"Fuck that." Harry sat up, suddenly angry. He couldn't stop it seeping into his magic, filling the room, and rattling the window. Draco's eyes went wide, and then he pressed his lips together. "Reel it in, Potter," Draco said, and his fingers tensed over his stomach. "If you break anything in this flat because you're having a snit, I will personally make you eat whatever you've shattered."

Harry was silent for a moment, taking a deep breath to settle his magic, followed by another large sip of his wine, and then he said, his voice barely a whisper, "I've always wanted a family, Malfoy. I didn't think it was an option for me anymore. Then you tell me I'm going to be a father and in the next breath you tell me that doesn't change a god damn thing?" Harry looked over at Draco, and he couldn't help the way his hand shook. "Fuck that Malfoy. This changes _everything_." 

"Why does it have to?" Draco asked. He was really trying to understand. Why couldn't Harry see that? 

Harry closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and his tone solemn. "Because you are pregnant. With my child. A child I've wanted for years but never thought I would have." He shook his head. "I'm going to go before we both say something we'll regret."

He stood and walked to the fireplace, grabbing a handful of Floo powder. He turned back to look at Draco. "This discussion isn't over." With that he tossed the powder into the fire, called out his address and stepped through.

_HPDMHPDM_

Harry stepped from the fireplace and into his front room. He pulled his Auror robes from his pocket and reversed the Shrinking Charm on them before hanging them on the coat rack, stalking to the side bar. He couldn't really explain the feeling he had, but suddenly the flat looked different to him. Shabbier. Messy.

He poured a short tumbler of firewhisky and sat in his favourite chair. The one he'd fucked Draco in a few weeks ago. His cock perked up in interest and Harry pressed on it. _Not tonight,_ he thought. "Hell, probably not any night soon," he said to the empty room.

His thoughts went back to Draco's and the horrified look on Draco's face when Harry had said the pregnancy changed everything. Did Draco care that little for him that the thought of having a child together was disgusting? What else could it be? His thoughts swirled ash he tried to suss out a reasonable explanation. Why didn't Draco want Harry to be part of his and their child's life?

HPDMHPDM

Two weeks had passed without a single word from Draco. Harry sat at his desk in the Ministry, wondering if he could _invent_ a reason to go down to the lab and confront Draco. No, that wouldn't work. For fuck's sake, Draco'd even taken to sending Smithers up with his reports and _everyone_ knew Harry loathed Smithers and his simpering attitude. Christ, the man was a total pain around Harry. Always behaving as if they were long-lost mates. It was enough to put Harry off his pumpkin pasty.

Harry gave himself a mental shake. Back to the subject at hand. How could he get Draco to understand that he wanted, no he _needed_ to be a part of their child's life. What he wanted to do was to storm over to Draco's flat and demand to be heard, but he also knew Draco well enough to understand that would accomplish nothing. Draco would close himself off again and Harry would be right where he was now. Which was no closer to them actually having a conversation about the fact they were having a baby. Together, whether or not Draco wanted to admit it. 

With a sigh, Harry leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, grateful it was Friday. He'd been practically useless this week, to the point that Kingsley actually told Harry "Stop moping around here like a limp Flobberworm and get your damn head out of your arse, Potter. I need a Head Auror who actually works, not a bloody figurehead. If I wanted that, I'd have left Peasegood in charge." Harry'd been mortified, but he managed to at least appear to be working for the last couple of days. Enough that Kingsley'd left him alone, thank Merlin.

Harry frowned and tapped his quill against his desk blotter. What he needed was something that would catch Draco off guard so they could talk. A gift. A nice bottle of Draco's favourite wine – and at that thought Harry winced. Christ, there you go – give the pregnant one a bottle. How thick could he be??

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. No. It couldn't be just any gift. It would have to be big. Something Draco loved, but could still have right now. And then it came to him in a flash, and Harry sat up so quickly, he nearly fell out of his chair. Of course, that was it! He knew exactly what he needed to do.

Early Saturday morning, Harry was standing outside Draco's door, holding an enormous bouquet of white roses with soft pink centres. His face was entirely hidden behind the blossoms as he knocked. For a brief moment Harry wondered if he'd gone a bit overboard – even the florist had been surprised by how big of an arrangement Harry'd been willing to pay for but he quickly let the thought pass.

Harry heard Draco before the door even opened. "I swear to Salazar, I should…" Draco trailed off and Harry ventured a peek from behind the flowers. 

"Morning, Draco. May I come in?" Harry asked softly. 

"What in the name of Merlin's saggy pants are you doing?" Draco asked. He was looking at Harry as if he'd lost his mind. Maybe, Harry thought, he had.

Harry shuffled his feet, suddenly uncertain. He'd thought he remembered Draco loved flowers. But maybe he was wrong. "I, erm, I brought you this as an apology."

Draco grabbed Harry by the arm and pulled him into his flat. "These are not _some flowers_ , Potter. For Circe's sake, this is the entire stock of McQueens!" 

"Could I maybe set them down?" Harry held the bouquet out. "They're a bit heavy. The girl at the shop said shrinking or using a lightening charm on them wasn't a good idea."

"You're an utter idiot, Potter," Draco said, but Harry could hear the affection in his voice. "You do realise this, yes?" Draco pulled his wand out and stepped back, the door opening wider as he Levitated the flowers into the flat. He looked back over his shoulder. "Well, come on," he said, with a bit of irritation in his voice, and Harry stepped into the flat, closing the door behind him before he followed Draco and the flowers down the hallway. 

The flat was cool and shadowed, and Harry wondered if Draco was feeling well. He usually liked it to be airy and bright. 

"Are you all right?" Harry asked as they stepped into the kitchen. 

Draco set the flowers down on the counter then looked back at Harry, a frown between his brows. "As much as can be expected." He turned, leaned against the counter. "What is it these flowers are supposed to get you?"

Harry licked his lips. "Just a chance to talk. To try to figure out where we go from here."

" _We_ don't go anywhere from here," Draco said firmly. He lifted his chin, his mouth determined. Harry hated that expression; it always meant he'd have a fight on his hands. "I thought I'd made myself quite clear on that point."

Harry held up his hands. "Can we at least sit down? I just want to say a few things before you go off on me." He looked at Draco, trying not to stare at his stomach. Trying not to stare where his – no _their_ child was growing.

Draco closed his eyes and sighed. "Fine, but I swear to Merlin I will toss your arse to the kerb if you piss me off." The look he gave Harry was sharp. "Again."

"Well if that's the case," Harry said with a harsh laugh, "I reckon I should just plan on being tossed out. It seems I can't say a fucking thing that doesn't piss you off these days."

"Point taken." Draco shrugged. He sighed, then waved his hand. "Go on, then. I'll attempt to keep my temper in check."

"I'm trying to understand," Harry began. "However much you dislike me, that baby is a part of both of us. That's something that's extremely important to me. I know that you're the one who's pregnant. The one who's body is going to go through changes. But just because I'm not going to go through the physical changes, doesn't mean those changes don't affect me. And while I was sort of under the impression that maybe I meant more to you than just a fuck, I can deal with the fact that I didn't. That apparently this was just some way to get back at me for our past."

Harry took a deep breath, his voice shaking only a bit. 

"Potter, I…" Draco pushed himself off the counter, an odd look on his face.

"No," Harry said, cutting Draco off. "Please. Let me finish and then you can _toss me to the kerb_." His heart ached. "Or whatever. But even if you do toss me out. I will be a part of our child's life. I want him or her to know me. I don't have to live with you or anything. I get now that's not what you want. But I won't let you keep me from knowing my, no – our child."

Draco sat, silently, staring at his hands. He twisted them together before he looked up at Harry. "I never said I hated you."

"Maybe not in so many words," Harry's voice caught as he spoke. "But the impression was there all the same."

Draco ran his hands over his face, walked across the kitchen to stand at the window overlooking the back garden. "Fuck," he murmured. "I wish I could have a drink."

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "My first thought was to bring you a spectacularly expensive bottle of wine."

"I'd have probably hit you over the head with it," Draco looked back over his shoulder to give Harry a small, tight smile. "A bazillion roses was a much better choice."

"It's only a hundred," Harry muttered. "Not a flipping bazillion."

Draco just rolled his eyes. "The point being, it was still a much better choice. And I don't hate you. I just don't want this baby to be the reason you want to start a relationship with me." Draco sighed and ran a hand over his belly. "Sprout and I deserve better."

"Sprout? Seriously? You're calling our child after the Herbology professor?" Harry looked mortified. 

"Well not any fucking longer!" Draco glared at him. "It was something to call him or her until I knew if it was a him or a her. But now…cripes I'll not get that woman out of my head if I call it that!" Draco huffed a clearly annoyed breath. "But names aside – I won't be anyone's charity case. We were perfectly happy with the way things were. You and I don't need to start playing happy families because of this."

When Harry started to protest, Draco stopped him with a look. "I'm not saying you can't be a part of the baby's life. I wouldn't expect anything less from you. I'm merely saying that we don't need to run off and get married simply because I'm up the duff."

Harry's temper flared. "So you're telling me that you want to _see_ other people? While you're pregnant with _my_ child?" 

Draco turned around, his eyes blazing. "For fuck's sake! I did not say that. In case you've not put two and two together, Potter, I've not been _seeing_ anyone but you for the past fucking year or so! And not once during that entire time did you so much as hint that you'd like to make this more than what it was…a convenient fuck. So excuse me for not jumping to change that."

Harry stared at Draco, surprise making his breath short. Draco looked pale, but determined, and Harry realized he was telling the truth; he hadn't seen anyone besides Harry in more than an year. Slowly, Harry nodded. "You're right."

Draco's lips curved into a slight smile. "What was that? I'm afraid I didn't catch it."

"Arse," Harry muttered. Then speaking louder he repeated himself, "I said, you're right."

"How bad did that hurt to say?" Draco asked. "Your face is a bit pinched."

"Oh fuck off." But Harry laughed as he replied. "But you didn't indicate you wanted us to be more than fuck buddies, either. You prat. You can't make this all my fault."

Draco tilted his head and arched an elegant brow. 

"Fine, _that_ could be considered my fault. But I do recall you playing quite an active role in it too. And you know what I meant."

"I do," Draco confirmed. "But that still doesn't mean I want to dive head first into a relationship with you." He paused and held up a hand when Harry started to talk. "However, I don't have an issue with you being a part of Bump's life. So stop your snit."

Harry considered. "Fine, I supposed I'm not ready to move in or anything either. But I'll take the chance to see how this goes."

"Fine."

"Fine."

They stared at one another for what felt like a very long time but probably wasn't more than a minute.

"So," Draco finally said with a wicked grin. "Who do we tell first? Granger or the Weasel?"

Harry attempted to look nonchalant. "I though perhaps we'd tell your Mum first."

Draco nearly fainted.

HPDMHPDM

It wasn't easy going from their casual status into even a hint of a relationship. Even throughout Draco's pregnancy, Harry struggled to keep things light. He wanted to move in with Draco but any time he dropped a subtle hint about it, Draco would become more irritable than what was now his normal and Harry would back off again. He'd have had to be completely mental to incur the wrath of a Malfoy while he dealt with swollen ankles and nausea that didn't adhere to mornings.

Harry knew he should be happy being able to stay over in Draco's flat a couple of times a week. Often on the pretence of needing Draco's expert opinion on a case. With a bit of prodding from Harry, Kingsley had agreed to keep Draco on as a consultant and agreed to allow Draco to work from home. Even the Minister wasn't foolish enough to risk Harry Potter's baby in a laboratory environment. And _that_ was a conversation Harry never wanted to repeat in his life; the look on Kingsley's face when he admitted he'd got Malfoy up the duff was nothing short of alarming. 

He was standing by the sink, finishing a mug of tea, when Harry heard his Floo chime. He set the mug in the sink, hoping he'd remember to wash it later, and went to the living room, kneeling before the flames to answer. Draco's face appeared in the flames.

"Potter!" Draco called out, looking aditated. "What took you so long?"

Harry's brow furrowed and he shook his head. "Fuck's sake, Malfoy, it wasn't even a minute. What's got your prick in a knot?" He rolled his eyes. "It's not like it's time for the baby or something."

When Draco's response was a slight moan, Harry took a closer look. Draco's face was covered with a slight sheen of perspiration and he was paler than normal. He looked like death.

"If the stabbing pains in my back are any indication," Draco managed between grimaces, "it would appear that Bump has decided to be early. Get your arse over here!"

Alarm gripped Harry's chest. "Back up, I'm comint through." Harry rose and grabbed a handful of Floo powder from the dish. He stepped quickly through into Draco's flat and took one look at his lover. Draco was half-sitting, half-laying on the sofa, breathing rapidly. 

"Deep breaths, Draco." Harry laid his hand on Draco's shoulder. "Remember if you breathe too quickly you might faint."

"Fuck you, Potter," Draco growled. "You try taking a deep breath when your insides want to become your outsides. Just call the bloody Healer and get me to St Mungo's!"

"Where's your hospital bag? It's supposed to be right here."

Draco gave a sharp cry of pain. "To hell with the fucking bag, we need to go. You wanted to be here for this, then for the love of Merlin call the Healer!"

Harry knelt at the fireplace and placed a Floo call to Healer Sirona, his eyes glued to Draco the entire time. He thought he was doing well to decipher what the calm, vaguely amused Healer was saying. When she signed off, he stood and moved back to Draco's side. "She'll meet us in the paternity ward. She suggests we Apparate rather than Floo."

"I don't bloody care if we ride a damn Hippogriff, as long as we go. NOW!" Draco took Harry's offered arm and stood, his fingers digging in so hard it was all Harry could do not to grimace. "Oh fuck, that hurts." He ran his hand over his protruding abdomen. "We're going, we're going," he said to Bump. 

It was a flurry of activity from the moment Harry and Draco landed on the paternity floor. Draco was immediately taken to a delivery room to be prepped for surgery. Harry'd expected to go with Draco and was a bit disappointed when no one told him to follow. He was about to look for a lounge area when Healer Sirona poked her head out the door.

"Mr Potter? He's asking where you are." She pointed to a trolley next to the door. "You'll find your surgical scrubs in there. You'll also need to get that hair under a cap and booties over your…feet."

Harry looked down. Apparently in his rush to get to Draco, he'd neglected to put his trainers on. He gave a quick laugh. "Guess I was in a hurry."

"At least you have your trousers on. The last father neglected those and was at the delivery in his boxers. Thank Merlin for the scrubs." She gave him a pointed look. "Best hurry, we need to start."

With shaking hands, Harry dressed. Once his booties were in place, he pushed into the operatory. Draco lay on a bed, still pale as porcelain, but he looked grateful to see Harry. Draco held out his hand and Harry rushed over, taking it in his. "Hey," Harry said, wiping Draco's brow with this other hand. "Here we go."

Draco looked up at Harry. "I know I've been a right arse these past months. Thank you for being here."

Harry bent down and kissed Draco's brow. "There's nowhere else I would rather be right now. And for the record? I think you've been pretty amazing."

"I don't mind telling you that while I'm thrilled at the prospect of seeing my feet and my prick again, I'm more than a bit nervous. What if Bump doesn't like me?" The pain potions Draco had been given were taking effect and he was babbling. All of which simply made Harry love him even more.

And there it was. He loved Draco. Not just because Draco was about to give him the ultimate gift, but because he was Draco. A little prickly, a little obnoxious and a lot sarcastic, and Harry loved every single inch of the man. 

"Hey, Potter," Draco said, jerking on Harry's hand. "Stop dreaming and tell me what's happening."

Harry looked down towards Draco's draped off lower half. "Erm…I can't really see and honestly I'm not sure I want to."

Healer Sirona smiled. "I've just made the incision. In a moment, we'll finally know the sex of this _Bump_ of yours." 

Draco's grip tightened on Harry's hand. "Oh," he gasped. "I feel pressure."

"All completely normal," a medi-witch said. 

The room was suddenly filled with a reedy cry. "Congratulations, gentlemen," Healer Sirona said, lifting the baby so they could see. "You have a son. Would you like to cut the cord, Mr Potter?"

Harry looked at Draco. "I'd like that very much." He moved to the wall where the medi-witch was wiping goop off the baby, off his son, before setting him on a scale. 

"He's a strapping thing," a second medi-witch said. "Eight pounds even and fifty-three centimetres long. Might be a tall one, this fellow." She turned to Harry. "Now take this surgical wand and touch the umbilical cord between Nurse Hazel's fingers. Don't be missing your mark and hitting her finger – she's quite fond of it!"

At Harry's horrified look, all the surgical staff in the operatory laughed. "Sorry, Mr Potter," said the one called Nurse Hazel, "just a bit of medical humour. You'll be fine."

Harry touched the end of the wand to the baby's cord and a dressing appeared over the tiny stump, as the other piece disappeared.

"If you've all finished oohing and aahing over my son," Draco huffed, "the father who actually did **all** the work would like to see him."

Nurse Hazel quickly swaddled the baby and handed him to Harry, showing him how to cradle the little boy in his arms. 

Harry carried the infant to Draco and laid him carefully in Draco's extended arms. "Merlin," Draco exclaimed softly. "Look at him. Thankfully he doesn't appear to have your hair, but who knows how those genetics will play out." Draco ran a finger down the baby's cheek, smiling gently. "He's so soft." 

Draco began to unwrap the swaddled blanket, but the baby immediately voiced his displeasure. 

Harry laid a hand over Draco's. "I've seen him without the blanket. I can verify there are ten perfect little toes and all the appropriate plumbing that a boy needs. You can count his fingers yourself."

Nurse Hazel stepped over to the bed. "We have a few more tests and potions to administer. We'll get Mr Malfoy settled in his room and then bring…" she scooped the baby from Draco's grasp. "You don't seem to have a name yet, do you? Well never you mind, your fathers will get that sorted very soon I'm sure."

Draco closed his eyes. "I'm so tired."

Harry ran his hand over Draco's hair, caressing the curve of his head. "Rest for a minute. I'll wake you when you're settled in a room. Then we need to decide on a name." He looked to Draco for some sort of response, but received a small snuffling breath instead.

While the Healer and medi-witches finished healing a peacefully sleeping Draco, Harry found the lounge and placed Floo calls to their respective families. Narcissa was still living in France, but planned to come home once the baby had arrived. Harry assured her that their son was beautiful and had come with all of his fingers, toes and _equipment_ , and that Draco would contact her soon. Then he contacted Hermione and Ron to let them know. Hermione wanted to come immediately to see the baby, but Harry was able to convince her that Draco needed rest and promised to have them over as soon as possible.

Draco was in his room when Harry finished with the calls. He slipped inside, surprised to see Draco sitting up and not resting, as Harry had expected him to be. 

"You look pretty good," Harry sat in the chair beside the bed. 

Draco scoffed. "If I look anything like I feel, I imagine that's a lie. But thank you for not telling me I look like shite. Healer Sirona said I can't shower for twenty-four hours to give the incision time to completely heal. I'll be positively rank by then."

"You've never been rank in your life, Draco," Harry said, with a pat to Draco's hand. "Not even after Quidditch." He grinned into Draco's tired grey eyes. "So, how do those toes look?"

Draco laughed. "Covered by a blanket, but at least I can see where they are. They should be bringing him in soon, and they want me to try to feed him." Draco pointed towards the other side of the bed where a small square bin with several bottles stood. "They're kept the proper temperature in there. Convenient."

"A boy," Harry said with a smile. "Have you given a name any thoughts? Of all the things we talked and argued about, how is it possible we never discussed names?'

Draco hesitated. "At one point I didn't think you had any right to choose a name." He shook his head when Harry started to protest. "But I was wrong. You have every right to help select a name for your heir."

Harry gave Draco a long, assessing look. Your heir, too." Draco nodded soberly. "So you have a name in mind, then? Am I going to hate it?"

Draco laughed, coughed and then swatted Harry's arm. "Don't make me laugh. It hurts. And you probably would have hated it." He turned slightly, settling deeper into the pillows at his back. "I'd like to keep with the family tradition of naming our son's after constellations."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Please tell me you don't intend to call our son Perseus."

Draco wrinkled his nose. "Impressive. So you did pay attention in Astronomy class. But no, that's too close to the insufferable wanker Percy Weasley. I'd actually intended to call him Scorpius Hyperion."

"Oh fuck no," Harry blurted out. "Sorry." 

"I said _intended_. But I'd like you to have a voice in his name. I'd still like to have his given name Scorpius, but I think you should choose his middle name. Just please, for the love of Morgana, not Ronald."

Harry shook his head. "Christ no." He rubbed his hand along the stubble on his chin. "Honestly I've never given it much thought. I didn't think I'd have a say in the matter." He stared at the floor. "I suppose I'd like James. After my father."

"Scoripus James Malfoy," Draco considered. "A nice strong name. Would you…I don't suppose you'd…"

"What, Draco? You're making me a bit nervous here." Harry stood up. "Do you need the Healer? Medi-witch?"

"No, no," Draco took a deep breath, "What do you think about Scorpius James Malfoy-Potter? I think he should have the names of both of his fathers."

Harry sat back down with a plunk. "You'd do that?" his voice was barely a whisper. He looked at Draco as a tear slid down his cheek. 

Just then Nurse Hazel came bustling in, pushing Scorpius in a small bassinet. "Here we go, little man. Time to get to know your daddies and with any luck acquire a name for yourself."

She picked Scorpius up and settled him in Draco's arms. "He's been washed up and has a fresh nappie, but I suspect he'll be looking for a bottle any minute now."

As if on cue, Scorpius' little face bunched up and he let out a whimper. Nurse Hazel reached over, plucked a bottle from the warmer and handed it to Draco. "Now put it near his little lips, he'll know what to do with it." They watched as the little rosebud mouth wrapped around the nipple and began to suck. "Smart little things, they are. Now I'll leave you three to bond. Press the red button if you need anything, dearie. I'll be in here in a tic."

Harry leaned over Draco's shoulder, mesmerised by the tiny mouth working at the nipple. "How do you imagine he knows what to do? It’s not like someone taught him."

Draco shifted Scoripus to his other arm, moving the baby closer to Harry as he laughed. "He's brilliant, of course. Back to my question. Does Scorpius James Malfoy-Potter work for you," Draco paused. "Harry?"

Harry's head shot up and he looked at Draco, smiling widely. "I think it's brilliant."

Draco gingerly scooted over in the bed. "Come up here and sit with us. I think Scorpius wants both of his father's with him right now."

Harry slid gently onto the bed, feeling the warmth of Draco's side against his. Scorpius cradled between them. There were still a million things to for Harry and Draco to talk about. Another million decisions to be made, but for the moment Harry decided he was exactly where he wanted to be and where he intended to stay. 

At his son's and his lover's side.

finis

  



End file.
